The Sometime Sister by Katherine Nichols (ebook reader for comics .txt) 📕

passed beneath a tunnel covered with an iron and glass dome. Crystals gleamed in the filtered sunlight, and shafts of light played through the thick-paned panels. I felt as if I were floating in an underground stream and stopped to regain my equilibrium.

We entered through the side. I read security getting into the building was tight, so I brought only my passport, a credit card, and a little cash tucked into my pants pockets. Two men in black and white uniforms stood inside. One of them checked my documents and commented to his partner. All I could make out was the word “American.” I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or sneering when he said it. When I told him I didn’t have a bag, he gave me a skeptical look, then motioned me to the body-wanding area, where I breezed through without setting off a single alarm.

Except for the signs written in Spanish, the inside was much like local government buildings at home: the glare of fluorescent lights reflecting on shiny tile floors, the echo of heels down endless corridors. It seemed bureaucracy created an ambiance of its own, regardless of nationality. An attractive young woman greeted us from behind a desk in the middle of the entry. Harry explained we were a few minutes early for our appointment. She requested we wait in the reception area while she contacted Señor Cordoza.

Harry and I sat on a stiff-backed love seat while Justin paced. He stopped to glance at his watch once, then continued walking briskly back and forth. It was the first time I’d seen him looking anxious, and that feeling of hopelessness returned, stronger than before.

“Hey,” Harry said, taking my hand and squeezing it. “It’s going to be okay.”

I was pretty sure we both knew it wouldn’t be, but I smiled and nodded.

After about ten minutes, a gentleman in a pin-striped suit approached us. Like many of the Ecuadorian men I’d seen, Luis Cordoza was slightly built and only a few inches taller than me. His shiny black hair was combed neatly to the side. Wire-rimmed glasses sat high on the bridge of his nose and magnified his dark eyes, lending a serious expression to his slender square-jawed face.

Harry held out his hand, but Cordoza grabbed his arm and pulled him in for a man-hug. “It’s been a long time.”

Harry endured the close contact for a few seconds, before pulling away to introduce us.

“Always a pleasure to meet friends of Harry Davenport. I am sorry to have kept you waiting. Let’s go somewhere we may talk privately.”

We followed our host down a narrow hallway. He stopped in front of a door leading to a windowless office. Shelves lined with books left little room to breathe.

“Thank you so much for seeing us, Señor Cordoza,” I said as I chose the seat closest to his desk. Harry and Justin took the remaining chairs.

“It is Luis, please.” He had a gentle smile that eased my anxiety. “Harry has told me about your situation, and I would like to express my deepest sorrow for your loss. It is especially painful to lose someone so young.”

My throat constricted and tears stung my eyes. But I held it together.

“I only received a copy of your sister’s file a few minutes before you arrived. I ask for your patience while I look through it.”

We watched as he read papers that reduced my sister’s life to the circumstances of her death.

When he finished, his smile was gone. “It appears your sister’s death was handled as an accident from the beginning. There is no mention of anything other than drowning as the cause. And the police always include photographs in the report. There are none here, only notes about the condition of the victim. The description of the body is troubling.”

“The description of the body,” I whispered.

Luis stopped and cleared his throat. “Please, forgive my insensitivity.” He looked at me before continuing. “Considering the fact that there could have been additional causes for your sister’s death, it is unusual there was no request for further investigation. In most cases, that request comes from the closest family member.”

The room went quiet, so quiet I could hear the big, round clock over Luis’s desk ticking away the seconds. We all knew Ben would have been considered the closest family member. I wanted to set the record straight. To tell Luis and the Ecuadorian authorities that I was the closest. I had known her longer, loved her better. But if I’d really loved her better, she might still be alive.

Justin broke the silence. “Is there any way Grace could make that request as the surviving sister? Ask that they take another look at the, um, at the, uh, case. We have letters showing how close the two of them were. There might even be something incriminating in them about Stella’s husband.”

He frowned. “Might be? You don’t know what is in them?”

“We haven’t read all of them yet,” I said. “But if we could have a little more time, please.”

He shook his head and closed the file. “I am so sorry, Señorita Burnette. Policy prohibits the release of the contents of the official folder, but I am going to make an exception for you.”

He pressed a button and asked his secretary to copy the files.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing else I can do. You see, it is too late for further consideration. According to the wishes of her husband, your sister’s body was cremated two days ago.”

Chapter 16

I don’t remember leaving the Palace or the ride back to the hotel. A darkness engulfed me, and it wasn’t until we were parked at the Wyndham that I broke through it.

“So, I guess that’s it. He wins,” I said to no one in particular. And then I remembered my mother had accounted for the possibility the system might not deliver justice for Stella. She found her own brand of insurance policy guaranteeing Ben wouldn’t get away with murder. And for a